Anthony Rolfe Johnson, Pamela Helen Stephen, Bryn Terfel

Richard Hickox   Conductor

Philharmonia Orchestra
London Symphony Chorus

Elgar's Dream of Gerontius is a setting of John Henry Newman's poem in
which a man at the moment of death sees (briefly) heaven and the face of
the almighty, and then goes gratefully to Purgatory to repent his sins and
await elevation to heaven for ever.

The shape of the narrative, with choruses of the dead man's friends who
pray for him on earth using fragments of the Dies irae and Libera me (with
hints of plainchant), and "Angelicals" and demons in the afterlife, is
similar to that of the last scene of Faust in any of its musical versions.
The substance is a Catholic version of the myth of Er in Plato's Republic,
or any of its derivatives (including the Somnium Scipionis), in which a man
dies, sees the whole universe, and the afterlife including the rewards of
the good and the punishments of the wicked, then returns to life much
wiser.

Some of the poetry, and theology, recalls the Holy Sonnets of John Donne,
or George Herbert's, not surprisingly given the Catholic-tinged Anglicanism
of both poets. Newman, an Anglican-tinged Catholic by the time he wrote
Gerontius, wasn't as great a poet as either, but his text is clear and
rich, in a contemporary idiom, and ideal for setting to music.

Elgar's music is similar in some ways to the Faust settings (Schumann or
Mahler). His editor August Jaeger (aka Nimrod) wanted a sweeping Wagernian
climax, but Elgar argued, accurately, that Newman's poem ends with the soul
becoming aware of its own unworthiness to see the face of God, and
shrivelling away in despair. The oratorio ends instead with a serene chorus
of the souls in Purgatory, and the angel's gentle, tender farewell to the
soul.

But there is a clear debt to Wagner in the way Elgar uses a set of themes
to show the presence of all times in one, of the soul's redemption in its
moment of despair and of its guilt in its sense of well-being immediately
after death. In addition, the Angel of the Agony of Christ, who invokes
Christ's suffering to pray for the souls in Purgatory, is a close relative
of Gurnemanz musically.

This performance by the London Philharmonia seemed better prepared than the
Sea Pictures last week. Perhaps the need for rehearsals with the chorus
focussed things. The London Symphony Chorus was certainly in good form,
finding sublimity in the final full version of the hymn Praise to the
holiest, and crackling with malice as the Mephistophelian demons. (The
chorus of demons have music that reminded me of a manic version of
Desparing, cursing rage from Hayn'd Creation.)

Pamela Helen Stephen was a tender angel, with a rich but clear tone that
came through the orchestra well. Anthony Rolfe Johnson seems to be becoming
a compact version of Peter Pears. He's cracking up slightly in places
(vocally), but his singing is intense and dramatic, and he's still got some
lovely pure high notes. Bryn Terfel was in his element as the priest (in
this life) and the Angel of the Agony (in the next), producing a massive
sound with apparent ease (and, as far as I could tell, with his mouth open
on both sides), and conveying authority and sympathy in a way which makes
me look forward to his Gurnemanz as much as his Wotan.